


The Hazza-rd of Changing Shirts

by Happilysunlight (sunlight)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quickies, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:57:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4879465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlight/pseuds/Happilysunlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon compliant fic. Louis goes backstage to change his shirt, Harry follows. “I’m just changing me top, Harry!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hazza-rd of Changing Shirts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yslstagram (lindseyloveslouis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindseyloveslouis/gifts).



> Based on [this](http://nowkisssmeyoufool.tumblr.com/post/129937856994/sweats), [this](http://hazandlousohappily.tumblr.com/post/129936646994/louis-just-squeaked-im-just-changing-my-top), and [this](http://usa-nglophile.tumblr.com/post/129951298308/did-i-find-it-or-no-there-is-a-serious-when) post. I felt inspired. This is gonna disregard what may have actually happened timing-wise or rumor-wise so humor me! 
> 
> For [Lindsey](yslstagram.tumblr.com), who encouraged me to name this fic with the most cheesy title I could think of (and also beta-d this and is my writing partner).

Louis grabs the collar of his shirt and rucks it up and over his head. He debates hanging it back up, but decides to toss it on the ground instead. It needs to be washed, he reasons. He has a good few minutes to relax here in the dressing room, and he’d like to spend as much of it as possible without a shirt on. The thermostat in their room has been wonky, and while it’s not the end of the world, he feels more sweaty than usual and the stickiness in the air isn’t helping. 

He twists to look over at himself in the full-length mirror and finds himself being hit with images of last night; Harry’s knuckles pressing into his lower back, his breathy moans in his ears, the sound of his own gasping as Harry sucked marks along his shoulder blades and collarbones. Everything was just a hair shy of too much pain, but it was followed by the soothing kisses and soft touch of Harry’s hands ghosting along his bare skin as they drifted to sleep. 

Louis turns away from his reflection after he catches the way his cheeks have turned red. Now’s not the time, yet he can feel the heat in his groin and the way his cock is responding to the slightest movements as he crosses the room to his garment rack. He brings a hand down to press against himself, willing his cock to relax as he uses the other to rifle through the hangers holding his shirts. While he contemplates his outfit, he absentmindedly begins to rub his hand on his cock ever so slightly up and down. 

He catches a glimpse of the bruises on his hip bones again, and breathes out a gasp when he catches the head of his cock with his palm. Unable to stop himself, he pops the button and shoves his hand down his pants. Change of plans, he can do this quickly, no fuss. He can get himself off, go back onstage and no one will be the wiser. It certainly won’t be the first time mid-concert.

Louis hears footsteps entering the room once it’s already too late, and he pulls his hand away immediately to meet the other he’s been using to brace himself on the garment rack. He can feel a deeper flush return to his face, knowing whoever’s entered the room has seen him pulling himself off. He keeps his face buried in the fabric of shirts hanging from the rack and waits for the intruder to say something awkwardly, probably give him a time reminder, and then leave. His blood is pounding in his ears, so he misses the way the person comes up behind him until there’s a cool breath on his neck and the feeling of fingers tracing along his spine. 

Louis lets out the breath he was holding. He recognizes the touch, knows the feeling of Harry’s callused fingers pressing lightly against him, tracing the way his back curves into his arse.

“Having fun without me, then?” He hears, and he turns his head to meet Harry’s eyes and sees them wide open, knows Harry’s trying to take in everything around him, every detail of Louis. How he’s cataloguing this to think about later, about how he’s shirtless, breath coming out in pants, jeans unbuttoned, his cock out, almost shiny with slick under the lights of the room. He’s got his bedroom eyes on in every sense of the term. 

“I’m just changing me top, Harry!” he says, knowing Harry won’t believe him. It comes out louder than he intends, because Harry starts suckeling lightly along his neck. 

Harry pulls back and looks down at the microphone still clutched in his left hand. “Er,” he says, flicking the power switch to off. “That may have been picked up, love,” he says, moving the mic around to indicate what he means. 

“Whatever, let them talk,” Louis responds.

At that, Harry flips Louis around and maneuvers them both away from the rack and towards an open part of the wall. There are only seconds before Harry’s on his knees, pulling Louis’ jeans and pants away past his arse but not all the way down, ensuring easy clean up, but still granting himself accessibility to more than just his cock.

Louis relaxes his shoulders against the wall and brings his hands up to Harry’s hair and tugs on his curls a bit, knows that the pull is sending arousal straight to his cock. He doesn’t doubt that Harry’s already hard, probably wiggling his hips to get whatever friction he can from his pants.

Harry doesn’t waste any time in getting his mouth on Louis’ cock, and he starts by swirling his tongue along the thick vein, pressing his lips around the head and grasping at the base with his hand. He’s got a firm grip on Louis’ cock and begins to bob his head, but it’s too slow, this needs to go quicker or else someone’s gonna catch them.

“Hazza, you gotta go quickly, the show-” he’s cut off by the feeling of Harry’s thumb at his arsehole. He knows Harry won’t fuck him, not in the dressing room, not when they’re expected back onstage in seconds. But he can imagine it, and he knows it’s exactly what Harry wants him to be doing. He can imagine Harry bending him over the couch in the center of the room, maybe eating him out for a bit before joining his tongue with fingers, pressing his cock into him-. The imagery is making this more intense. 

“Babe, I want your cock so badly right now,” Louis says. “I bet you want that, don’t you? Want to bend me over right here,” he gasps at Harry’s finger pressing into him, just slightly. “Haz, you’d eat me out yeah? Your mouth and tongue, god-You’d make me beg for your cock,” he stops to take a few deep breaths, to tug at the hair at the base of Harry’s neck, where it’ll send sparks down his spine. “Haz, need your cock to fill me up. We can make ‘em all wait for us, take your time to-ahh-to fuck me and split me--split me open.” He accents his words with sharp tugs on Harry’s hair and the slightest thrust of his hips. What he’s saying isn’t untrue, he wants it desperately, but he’s embellishing it a bit for Harry’s sake. 

Louis looks up from Harry to check the room, make sure there isn’t an intern frantically running down the hallway looking for them. He gasps when he catches their image in the mirror. He’s got a perfect side view, can watch the way his cock disappears into Harry’s mouth, how pliant Harry is, sitting on his knees with his back curved and neck straining to accommodate him. He makes a mental note to give Harry a neck massage later, that bend can’t be comfortable. He gets lost in the image and the feeling of Harry working his cock so expertly, and he thinks Harry on his knees like this is one of the most erotic things Louis has ever seen. His mouth is stretched around Louis’ cock, spit is dripping down the side of his chin and mouth, his hair a bit frizzy where Louis’ been tugging it, and his cock is peeking out of the waistband of his jeans, like it’s begging for attention from something. 

Louis watches the way his hands guide Harry’s face back and forth against his groin, watches the way that Harry is thrusting up against the air, desperate for friction against his cock. He sees the place where Harry’s hand disappears between his legs, where he can feel Harry’s fingers massaging his rim. He can see his own thrusts get a bit wider, a bit more forceful, how he pulls his hips a bit further back and pushes in a bit more than before, threatening to make Harry take him down his throat. He’d never do it without asking, and certainly not before a show, or in this case, during, and Harry knows it, so he braces himself on the wall behind Louis and tilts his head back, encouraging him to take control.

Harry almost pops off Louis’ cock when he realizes that Louis is watching him in the mirror to their side, but he recovers quickly. He meets Louis’ thrusts, quickens the pace along with him, and Louis can feel the way they’re in sync, like they’re both pushing a metronome a few clicks faster with every other thrust, but they’re perfectly together, not missing a single beat.

“Babe, you’re so hot like this,” Louis says. He can see the admiration in his own eyes in the mirror, mixed with the lust and desperation of knowing they’re running low on time before someone comes looking for them. Luckily, Harry has moved a hand down to his own cock, working over himself in time with Louis’ thrusts. He was worried they wouldn’t have enough time to get Harry off, that he’d have to go back onstage with an incredibly obvious hard-on. Maybe another time, maybe soon he can get Harry worked up before a show, put a plug in him, maybe a vibrator with a remote control before he pushes them up and onstage. The thought makes him moan aloud, and he knows what the sounds he makes can do to Harry.

He turns to look again into the mirror, to see the way he’s moving against Harry, the way Harry is moving against his own hand, and it’s unsurprisingly edging him close to his orgasm. He can feel his belly heating and his muscles contract, and he barely has time to yell out a warning before he’s coming. 

Harry takes his orgasm in stride, revels in the way that Louis thrusts erratically, pulsing come down his throat. He takes a last suck once Louis’ done thrusting and pushes himself up to cage Louis against the wall. 

Louis wraps a hand around Harry’s cock, joining the already slick hand Harry has there, working up and down at the same presto that shot him over the edge seconds earlier. Harry nuzzles his head into Louis’ neck and bites down against the flesh there, sending a wave of aftershocks to his cock and then back out to fill his body. It feels like he’s been struck with an electric current; he’s been on this high of arousal and even though he’s had his release, his heart is still thumping too fast with nerves, knowing that they’re pushing their time backstage to a new limit.

Harry’s gasping out, letting out small, breathy noises that hit Louis’ ears and give him rushes through his body. He knows that if they were at home with more time, he’d undeniably be up for another orgasm, would probably already be chasing it, tugging his cock to get it to come back to full hardness. Right now he tries to ignore the knowledge that he’s perfectly capable of coming again, tries to spend all his energy on helping Harry, pushes his hand down to fondle his balls, presses his thumb flat against the skin there, tries to focus on the way that Harry gasps and stutters his breathing in response. 

Harry’s body begins to tremble, a sure sign that he’s getting close. Louis realizes they didn’t grab anything to clean up with and makes the quick decision to sink to his knees and open his mouth wide. He sticks his tongue out, and the message is clear to Harry, who moves his cock to the entrance of Louis’ open mouth but continues to jerk himself off. 

“Hazza, come.” Louis says, the slightest hint of a command in his voice. Harry groans and his hips thrust his cock just barely into Louis’ mouth, and suddenly he’s coming. Harry doesn’t stop moaning until he’s forced all the come out of his cock and onto Louis’ tongue. Harry pulls back and Louis licks his lips and swallows what’s left of the bitter taste his mouth. 

“You’d think from all the fruit you eat that’d taste better,” he says, accompanied by a slight wiggle of his fingers on Harry’s sensitive hips. 

“Heeey,” Harry responds, drawing out the vowel.

They’re interrupted by the sound of knocking on the door, which gets pushed open before they can say anything.

“One second!” Louis yells, upset that whoever it is didn’t wait and quickly begins to tuck himself back into his jeans, sending a look at Harry to do the same. 

Louis is about to turn and reprimand the newcomer before he realizes it’s Liam, who’s covering his eyes with his hands. “Lads. Get onstage. I’m serious. Niall doesn’t have any more material to keep them entertained on his own. Clean yourselves up, I’m giving you thirty seconds,” Liam is stern but doesn't sound too upset, and he turns around to leave without looking towards them. He and Niall have probably enjoyed bantering with the audience and with each other while they’ve been missing.

Harry smiles at Louis and saunters over to his own garment rack, grabbing a plain black shirt off and tossing it to Louis. “Wear this one, love,” he says, voice rough, before picking up his mic and following Liam back to the stage.

Louis fits the shirt over his head and gives himself a once-over in the mirror before heading out as well. He looks, well- he looks like sex. There’s no denying it. It’s good that things are changing, that he can go back out there knowing full well that people will talk about the extended break backstage he and Harry took. And he’s glad for it, glad that people will say something about how the shirt is a bit too big on him, and will wonder why do they both look so happy and a little bit flushed? Times are a-changing and he couldn’t be happier. 

Louis steps back onstage right as Harry is teasing a dad in the front row, and he can’t help himself but to smile fondly at how wonderful he is. Louis looks away quickly, brushes his fringe out of the way of his forehead, and finds himself making eye contact with Liam and Niall. Both standing with pursed lips and shaking their heads very slightly at him, though he sees the way they roll their eyes, the hint of a smile teasing each of them.

Louis sticks his tongue out at them and turns to make eye contact with a smiling Harry right as he’s calling out “And here is Night Changes!”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr [here!](happilysunlight.tumblr.com) Come be my friend!


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